Who's Sherlock
by northerlywind
Summary: Sherlock/Doctor Who/Sherlock Holmes. Rated T to be safe.


**A/N: **Crossover Sherlock/Doctor Who/Sherlock Holmes.

YES. Here it is, finally. This was sitting on my Desktop for a long time and I finally got around to patching it up. Whoo. Alright, not as familiar with Doctor Who as Sherlock and definitely not as familiar with Sherlock Holmes, so forgive any possible OOC-ness. Thanks.

NORTHERLYWIND - limits.

1. Sherlock - Profound.

2. Doctor Who - Practical, but limited.

3. Sherlock Holmes - Feeble.

* * *

John opened the door and grabbed the milk.

Empty.

"Sherlock!" he shouted over the low tones of the violin, "You've got to tell me when the milk's run out!"

The only response was the violin getting louder.

John sighed with exasperation and closed the fridge door. "Fine! I'm going out to get more!"

He jogged down the stairs, covering his ears against the intentionally ghastly violin playing. Once he opened the door he realized he had left his money inside. He muttered a curse under his breath and made his way back up the stairs.

Then there was a suddenly a horrendous scraping sound.

He winced. Bugger, was that the heater again? They had it fixed last month! He sighed again, ignoring the sound as he snatched his wallet and went back outside.

He stopped. Was that... police box... there... before? He squinted at it, turning his head. Was it?

John couldn't remember for the life of him. He stared at it a few seconds more then made his way closer. The door was partway open and he cautiously stepped inside.

His mouth fell open. "Oh my god..." he breathed. He heard his name and turned to see an alert Sherlock striding towards him, violin and bow still clasped. He had a wide eyed look, curious, but not entirely surprised...

"Sherlock," said John, slowly. "What the bloody hell is this? It's... it's bigger on the inside..."

"Clearly."

They both turned at a loud "Oi! What are you two doing here?"

A girl with blonde hair was jogging toward them, and they both backed up into the... room thing.

She had a somewhat suspicious look over her features. "What do you think you're doing?"

Sherlock opened his mouth with a sarcastic reply, flicking the bow to his shoulder, but was cut off by a delighted cry.

"Is that a violin? I love violins!" followed by a man running towards them and stepping inside. "But first: what are you doing in the tardis?"

"The tar-what?" sputtered John.

Sherlock was staring at the man with the most curious and intense expression. "You're... not human," he said with a tone of - was that awe?

No, it couldn't be.

Wait.

There was a pause as Sherlock's words sunk in.

"Yep, that's right," said the man after a bit, scratching his head. "That's... very good. Genius, I would say - and I don't say that often."

"Wait a minute," said John suddenly. "What do you mean he's not human? Sherlock!" He turned with a gaped mouth to face Sherlock.

"Don't be thick, John; it's obvious isn't it?" replied Sherlock dismissively without even glancing away.

"Umm... No, it's not, would you mind explaining to us lot?"

Both John and the girl had partially dumbfounded expressions.

"Right, well, I'll let you two talk about that, off you go, we've got places to be." the man said with a pleased expression but a note of finality to his voice.

"No. You take us with you. To - wherever you're going."

The man seemed to debate this. "No use arguing with you, is there?"

"None at all," piped up John with a resigned air.

There was a telltale click and everyone froze. "HOLD ON A MINUTE," commanded John, pointing the gun around the room. "We're not going anywhere, Sherlock."

There was a loud sigh from the man, and a "Is that a gun? I hate guns!" but John ignored him.

Sherlock frowned. "But John... This is fun. This is not boring. Come on, we haven't got any cases anyway." he said, almost like a child. "Talk about being dramatic."

John, still pointing the gun (the man and the girl were exchanging looks), glared at Sherlock. "You're one to talk," he shot back. Then, slowly, he lowered the gun. "Bloody thing hasn't even got bullets," he muttered.

"I know-" interjected Sherlock.

"I knew that," whispered the man to the girl.

"One's in Mr. Hope, the others are in the damn walls," John continued to grumble. "It's not funny!" he shouted at Sherlock, who was smirking slightly.

"RIGHT THEN," said the man loudly, waving his arms around, "Well, are you two coming or not?"

John glanced at Sherlock and sighed.

"Fine," he said resignedly.

"Space and time," Sherlock said.

"Yep, the universe is your oyster. Or whatever the saying is," said the man, beaming. He returned to the control panel, peering over things. "Just this once, mind."

"Not that you know anything about space," said John.

"JOHN, for god's sake! We've been over this. I don't CARE if the Earth goes around the bloody sun."

"You don't know the Earth goes round the sun?" interrupted the girl incredulously.

"I KNOW," agreed John in exasperation, looking at the girl, throwing his hands in the air.

"I TOLD YOU, IT'S BEEN DELETED," shouted Sherlock, letting out a loud cry of frustration.

"Um-" said the man, bouncing on his heels. "You two done?"

John sighed and nodded.

Sherlock tapped the bow of the violin against his chin. "Ooh!" he said suddenly, straightening. "Let's see Bach perform!"

The man shrugged. "Alright then, here we go! By the way, are you two..."

"What?"

"Are you two... together?" He did various things to the controls and suddenly the bigger-on-the-inside room began to shake.

"NO!" shouted John over the loud noises, "WE'RE NOT BLOODY LOVERS!" John fell over soon after that and Sherlock nearly did as well.

After a few seconds or something of the sort the shaking stopped with the creaking noise.

John picked himself up, holding onto one of the rails and looking a little sick.

"Really, John," commented Sherlock dryly. "Invading Afghanistan, serial murders are all fine for you, but you get motion sickness?"

"Shut up."

"Here we are!" the man announced cheerily. He went to the door and pushed it open to a snowy scene.

John shivered. "It's winter!" he exclaimed, stumbling closer and peering around. "Everything is... different... My god. We really did go Bach in time..."

* * *

Really bad joke?


End file.
